


The Secret Agent and the Pastry Chef

by Zenon



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Brotherly Love, FACE Family, Fluff and Humor, Gen, M/M, Sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 06:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3599400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenon/pseuds/Zenon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Secret agent Arthur Kirkland goes undercover as an online food critic to protect a beautiful, smart-ass pastry chef and his two young sons. My storytelling of <a href="http://agentnicdown.tumblr.com/post/108130514575/fruk-human-au-where-secret-agent-arthur-kirkland">this AU</a>! (Rated T for slight reference to drugs)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Good morning, Agent Arthur Kirkland_

_We'd like you to go to Bristol to protect pastry chef Mr Francis Bonnefoy and his two sons. It seems he's captured the attention of Wang Yao. We've already prepared your necessary lodgings and transferred enough money for this mission to your company bank account. We've also made breakfast reservations for you at the restaurant Mr Bonnefoy works at. Your flight is at 8 PM._

\---

‘I’m Arthur Kirkland. I believe I've got a reservation.’

After a bit of searching, the woman at the front said, ‘Ah, oui. It was reserved by someone with an Italian name.’ She opened the glass doors for him. ‘Joan will show you to your table.’

A girl with short dirty blonde hair led him to a table for two at the side of the room, right next to one of the large murals that depicted famous French artworks. He sat down on the lush cushions of the chair.

She handed him a menu. ‘Here you go, sir. Just call me when you’re ready.’ She smiled.

He took it and nodded off to her. He quickly scanned everything and decided he would have Scrambled Egg Baguette with Crispy Bacon and Fries. Over the relaxing classical music that played in the background, he called Joan and gave her his order.

After a bit of time, his food was served on a fancy white and gold plate. ‘Bon appetite.’ Joan said.

Arthur took his time with eating the food. He found it very delicious. Just as he got out his notepad, Joan returned. 'Would you like any desserts? We have a wide selection of pastries.'

'Yes, please.' He took the small menu. 'Ah, I'd like about four éclairs, please. Oh, and before you go, do you think I could give my compliments to the chef? That is, would it be alright if I interview the pastry chef?'

'I'll see what I can do... oh, are you that Mr Kirkland? Ah, he's been expecting you. I'll make sure to call him when I give the order.' She smiled and left.

She returned with the éclairs and with another person. Arthur turned his head up to see a beautiful man dressed in chef’s clothing, a white shirt with two sets of buttons lining down that was accented by blue line along the waist. His hair was a beautiful shade of light blond that ran down to his shoulders; it was slightly curled at the ends.

Arthur immediately stood up to greet him. He said, ‘Good morning.’ And moved to shake hands with him, but the other man made to kiss him on both cheeks. They awkwardly moved their bodies back and did a regular handshake, as was customary in England.

‘Bonjour.’ A French accent. ‘I am François Bonnefoy, but you may call me Francis.’

‘Arthur Kirkland.’ They both sat down. ‘You must be the pastry chef I’m interviewing, right?’

‘Oui. That’s me.’

'Well, I suppose I'll just eat these and then ask a few questions...' He took an éclair and bit into it. The combination of chocolate, bread, and cream blended perfectly in his mouth.

'I heard that you've been food critiquing for years, so you must eat food like this all the time.' Francis commented. 'I didn't think you would have such an ecstatic face, but of course maybe it's just because my creations naturally bring that out in people.'

Arthur felt the muscles in his hand tighten. _Is this really the man I need to protect? What interest could anyone ever have in him? Especially that Wang Yao..._ Arthur thought.

When they were done, they exchanged contact information. ‘I do hope it would be alright for me to come back sometime tomorrow.’

‘Why, yes of course.’ Francis said. ‘I would love to see that face again as you eat the food I’ve made.’

Arthur’s hand tightened again. ‘Thank you for your time.’ He forced himself to say.

They shook hands and afterwards Francis pulled Arthur in to kiss him on both cheeks. ‘Au revoir, Arthur.’

Flustered, Arthur got his things and left the restaurant.

_\---_

_Scrambled Egg Baguette with Crispy Bacon and Fries and éclairs_

_I ate this for breakfast and it was very delicious. Everything mixed together in my mouth very well. However the egg was way too scrambled! And what’s with that… baguette? Why was it so hard? I could barely chew on it, much less cut it with my knife. This French style of cooking left the bacon extremely crispy. Despite those minorities, the food still tasted quite good. As for dessert, the éclairs were alright. I’m sure it would have been a lot better if the chef added more chocolate and if the chocolate didn’t taste so… chocolatey._

_\---_

Arthur felt satisfied with what he wrote, so he posted it on the website created by his organisation. It was formed nearly nine years ago when their organisation expanded globally and many agents used it for their disguises. It became quite the diverse website, its content ranging from blog posts to flash games that were mostly developed by Kiku Honda, a fellow secret agent.

_\---_

_Comments:_

_I think it would have been better if there was more pasta! –Feliciano, 10:13_

_It’s French! They’re all about bread and wine, you fool! –Ludwig, 10:13_

_Please don't fight. I get email notifications every time you comment. –Kiku, 10:14_

_\---_

The next day Arthur returned to the restaurant for elevenses. This time he knew better than to eat a French breakfast, as delicious as it was. Just as Francis got out of the kitchen for their second interview, another man joined Arthur’s table as well.

‘Kiku!’ Francis stood and made to kiss him on both cheeks, but Kiku backed away before it could happen. Instead they bowed their heads to each other. ‘What are you doing here?’

 _I would ask the same thing myself,_ Arthur thought.

‘I just came to quickly tell you something, Mr Francis.’ He turned to Arthur. ‘I hope you don’t mind if I intrude.’

‘Oh, no. Not at all, Mr Kiku.’ Arthur stood himself and shook hands with him, a gesture the man was not opposed to doing.

One of the waiters brought an extra seat for Kiku and it became a table for three.

‘I hope you don’t mind if I continue eating while you discuss whatever that is.’ Arthur said.

‘It will only take a little while.’ Kiku replied.

‘So what is it you needed to tell me?’ Francis asked.

‘Actually, Mr Francis, I can’t stay here for much longer. As you know, I’m a travel blogger and I’ve already gathered enough information for my Bristol article, and the rest of the areas in West England. I plan on moving to London by Sunday so I can start working on the next part of my UK series.’ Francis nodded his head. ‘London is around two to three hours away from Bristol, so I can’t possibly take care of your kids while I’m there, especially with my busy schedule.’

 _Whoa, 'take care of the kids'?_ Arthur thought, _when was Kiku ever good with children?_

‘Ah, of course. I understand.’ Francis looked a little saddened. ‘I’m sure Alfred and Matthew will miss you very much.’

‘And I’ll miss them too. They really helped show me around West England, especially Bristol.’ Kiku got a little sparkle in his soulless eyes. He sounded almost excited.

‘Well, thank you very much for all your help. You’ve been so kind and honest. Once you’re done with your work at London, make sure to come visit us again, okay?’

‘Of course! Even will all my time here, I still feel like I need to get even more used to Western culture than before. It’s all very fascinating.’

Arthur coughed. His plate had already been cleared by the busboys and he had already taken down sufficient notes about the food, and a little about Francis’ personal life. He also already left his payment in cash.

‘I really must get going now.’ Kiku ended the conversation. He stood and Francis did as well. They bowed to each other and Kiku left.

‘I think I’ll go too.’ Arthur said as he stood up. He briefly shook hands with Francis. ‘Thank you for your time.’

Arthur caught up to Kiku who was just outside the restaurant door. They started walking together.

‘What was all of that?’ Arthur asked.

‘I’m sorry for no one told you sooner, but before you arrived here two days ago I was the one in charge of protecting Mr Francis.' Kiku apologised. 'But now we’re leaving it up to you.’

‘Well, there’s no harm done, I suppose. Could you just explain a little bit for me?’

‘My apartment is right next to his. When he moved in, I introduced myself as his friendly travel blogging neighbour and offered to help with his kids.’ Kiku explained. ‘I’m actually going to London to meet up with Mr Ludwig and Mr Feliciano so we can help track down Mr Wang.’

‘Alright. That sounds like a good plan.’ Arthur said. ‘Now, on a side note, I know the travel blogger front suits your personality and all, but again? Why don’t you use a different disguise sometime?’

‘I just like it, and it gives me a good reason to take lots of pictures.’

‘Well, no one can blame you for things you’re fond of. That’s what I like about you, Kiku.’ He wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

Kiku smiled. ‘Thank you, Mr Arthur. I like you too.’

\---

_Macarons_

_They were really colourful. I don't understand why. I mean, I've made macarons before and they turned out black. Hm... Anyway, there was a lot of buttercream and jam in them. They tasted quite sweet. I'm not sure if I'll order these again._

_Comments:_

_You seemed to enjoy them. -Kiku, 12:32_

_I'm sure I can make more awesome macarons than you, Arthur! *cringe* I remember the last time I ate anything you made. I nearly choked to death. -Gilbert, 12:40_

_That's funny... I ate a whole plate of macarons made by Arthur and nothing happened. -Ivan, 12:44_

 


	2. Chapter 2

'Good morning, Francis.'

'And you, Arthur.' They shook hands and then pulled together for kisses on each other's cheeks. Francis smirked. 'I see the only thing you've ordered is something I made myself.'

'It's not like that, you frog!' Arthur huffed. 'I don't remember you making these sorts of comments yesterday when I came here for elevenses.'

'You're vying for my attention now? How sweet.'

'As if. Who's to say it's not the other way around?'

Things went on as usual. Arthur asked some questions about the food as necessary for his disguise. Eventually the questions became more and more about each other.

'Will this be on your blog?' Francis asked.

'No, no. I just want to know more about you.' Arthur smiled.

Francis smiled in return. 'Okay. I was relocated here to this branch of the restaurant after an incident that happened at the branch at Bordeaux. It closed down unexpectedly so a lot of the staff had a difficult time since they were all unemployed, but my boss said he would be able to get me this job here and my current apartment which is actually his spare one. He said he wouldn't be needing it anymore with what happened to the restaurant. I figured it was a good opportunity especially compared to unemployment, even if it was a little difficult getting used to the place since my English was rusty.'

'So is this your first time in the United Kingdom?'

'Yes. I don't really get enough free time to travel because of my job. It's not exactly your regular 9 to 5.'

'That sounds like quite the experience.'

'Here, work is a little lighter than back at Bordeaux. They only need me to make the actual pastries. Other people do the prepping for me. Sometimes I end up working late or coming in a little earlier, but we don't get extra pay for that because really just part of the job.'

'I had no idea the culinary industry could be so difficult.' Although Arthur had his fair share of cooking experience, he never really made a dish that made other's mouths water as much as Francis' pastries did his. 'Say, you wouldn't mind if one time I watch you make those pastries, would you?'

'Do you really need that for your blog, or are you just trying to get closer to me?' Francis said with a smirk.

'It's for my blog, you self-absorbed Frenchman!'

'You don't need to get so flustered.'

'Wipe that smug grin off your face before I do it for you!'

'Excuse me sir,' Arthur turned his head to see Joan. 'Please don't yell in the restaurant.'

'Ah, apologies, Joan. I was just leaving... Thank you for your time, Francis.' He quickly paid the bill on his table and left.

\---

_Choux à la Crème_

_It looked very delicious. The one I ate was filled with pastry cream and it also had powdered sugar on top. I think it was just a little difficult to cut... it was so tall I didn't know how to eat it. I wonder if the chef ever thought about_ that _while he's preparing these dishes._

_Comments:_

_Mr Berwald, here! This is the thing I wanted us to try out. Don't you think it would taste great? -Timo, 13:03_

_Yeah, sure. -Berwald, 13:10_

\---

Francis lightly scoffed at what Arthur had ordered this time. 'You're eating my pastries with tea? That will take away their naturally delicious flavour. Don't you British drink enough tea?'

'Don't be so ridiculous!' Arthur said, clearly offended. 'It's tea time. And unlike you vulgar French I don't get myself drunk on wine every five hours.'

'That's not true. No way would we get drunk so easily!' Francis' voice softened as he leaned in. 'We're quite the strong drinkers, you know. Would you like to go drinking with me sometime?'

Arthur's hand tightened. 'As if,' He started eating his food very fast, taking loud slurps of his tea just to spite Francis.

'I heard the only reason we even added tea to the menu is because this is a restaurant in the UK.'

At that statement Arthur fixed his eating to become more gentlemanly. 'Oh, really? That's quite considerate.'

'Yes, unfortunately I cringe anytime I see anyone order something with my snacks and tea.' He sighed.

Arthur realised he had finished eating, so he took out his notepad and pen and started asking Francis the regular questions about the food. Joan came to clear the plates and then Arthur left his payment.

'Alright. I've got enough already.' Arthur concluded. 'If it's alright with you, I'd like to watch you make your pastries right now.'

'Oh, really? Okay. Just follow me.' Francis led Arthur to the kitchen. He put on his chef hat and a black apron whilst Arthur put on a white apron and a hair net.

Francis laughed at him for a bit. 'Sorry, Arthur, but that's all we have.'

'Whatever, frog.' He proceeded to greet the other people in the kitchen out of curtesy and then he took his place on the counter to the left of where Francis worked.

The head chef came in and with two papers in hand, he yelled, 'Table 3: 2 Ratatouilles, 1 Soupe à l'Oignon and 4 éclairs; Table 4: 1 Tartiflette and 1 Beef Bourguignon then 2 Crème brûlées!'

Arthur got out his notepad for this. He watched Francis turn the ingredients into high quality pastries. His movements were delicate and precise and his slender fingers were graceful. He paid special attention to each pastry, not one detail being missed.

Blond hair started getting plastered to his face from the heat of the kitchen, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand, leaving a bit of a flour stain.

'Oh, let me get that for you.' Arthur reached out to him. He wiped it off with the back of his sleeve and in that moment he found himself caught in Francis' eyes. Locked in each other's gaze, Arthur felt his lips open slightly. He found himself leaning into him and-

'Where are those éclairs?'

Arthur immediately pulled himself away from Francis. He turned around, flushed, and let Francis bring a plate of éclairs to the head chef.

Francis sighed in an irritated tone. 'You broke my concentration!'

'Me?' Arthur said indignantly, turning around. 'You're the one that got flour on your head! You're a professional. You shouldn't be so careless!'

'Mr Bonnefoy!' The head chef hollered. 'I will have no fighting in this kitchen! At least, not any loud fighting. You can bicker with your boyfriend all you like but keep it down.'

 _Do we really look like a couple?_ Arthur thought about that for a second... and he ended up choking a bit. He and Francis sneered and growled at each other after that, mocking the other's facial expressions.

Arthur checked his wristwatch. _8:30 already?_

'Well, Francis. I best be going now.'

'Huh? Oh, good.'

'Yes, well, I need to go home and eat dinner of course.'

'Yes, well good night.'

'Thank you for your time.'

When Arthur returned home, he checked his notes and found doodles of Francis all over... how did that get there?

\---

_Peach Melba_

_It's made with peaches and raspberry sauce with vanilla ice cream. I liked the presentation. It's unlike any dessert I've tasted before. It was very sweet in my mouth, but once I drank my tea that sweetness died down. It's absolutely preposterous that Francis would cringe at my drinking this with tea. As if he even knows anything about tea. All he ever drinks is wine. Why can't that frog just mind his own business? Sure, he makes his pastries well and with precision but that doesn't give him any right to be so cocky about it._

_Comments:_

_You're getting quite off topic there, Arthur. -Ludwig, 21:48_

_Well if you ask me it sounds like he has a crush. -Elizabeta, 21:50_

_I do not! I'd rather not have you romanticising this. -Arthur, 21:51_

\---

Finally, it was Saturday... and Arthur still had to check up on that narcissistic bastard.

Francis didn't come out of the kitchen when Arthur's food arrived. It went from appetisers to dessert and for that whole hour and ten minutes no one was there on the other side of his table. He felt lonely, his only company being the sounds of other people in the restaurant bantering and the scribbling on his notepad. It was a full house, so of course Francis must have been busy.

He sighed. It was unrealistic of him to steal away the man every time he came to eat at this restaurant.

'Why the long face? Did you miss me?' Said a mocking voice.

'Francis! You're here!' He ignored his comment. 'I thought maybe you were too busy to meet me again.'

'Yes, that's true, but I already finished making all the orders.'

'Oh, that's wonderful! I've got quite a few questions about the food...' And they spent the next forty minutes talking about the food, making numerous side comments and arguments here and there. At one point Arthur felt very compelled to just reach over the table and strangle the man, but he controlled himself.

'Francis, everyone's gone home already.' The head chef called to him. 'I'll go too. When you're done chatting to your boyfriend just close the place up, will you?'

'Oui, monsieur.'

'You bastard, why don't you deny it when he calls us boyfriends?'

Francis laughed. 'Oh, it's so cute when you get angry like that. You really should stop.'

'Don't avoid the question!'

'Well, I guess I don't mind.' He said matter-of-factly. He then stood up, 'Come now, let's close up.'

Arthur helped him in doing so. They turned off all the lights then locked the front door. When they were done, they left the restaurant through the back exit from the kitchen.

'Would you like to come by my place?' Francis asked.

A shocked expression passed Arthur's face. 'Well, I'm flattered. I really am. Alright. It's Saturday night anyway.'

Out into the night streets of Bristol they walked. Sometimes Arthur would glance at Francis' face for a moment and indulge in the accented yellow light the lamp posts shone on him. At one point Arthur glanced again to see Francis gazing over his own face. They made eye contact and then looked away.

It was silent most of the way, except for the sound of a few cars riding past them. After a good twenty minutes, they finally reached Francis' flat.

'This is me.' He said. He turned his key and opened up the white door.

They went inside and Francis turned on the lights to reveal a neatly furnished hallway. The walls were painted white, a few small fine art paintings hanging off it and the floor was made of creamy white wooden planks.

Arthur hung his coat on the rack to his left and Francis tossed his chef's uniform there as well.  

'Just go through the second door on your right to the living room. I'll just check on my kids.' Francis said. 'I'll tell you about them later.'

Arthur made his way there, but before entering he checked his reflection in the full length mirror by the door and fixed himself up a bit. He went to the room and turned on the lights.

The walls and the floor looked just the same as the hallway, decorated with some more fine art paintings; there was also a large window that showed a dark view of the neighbouring buildings. There was a white corner fireplace to his left that went all the way up to the ceiling and it had small cut logs beside it.

Arthur took his seat on the large light grey sofa, arranging the pillows a bit to give him some more room. After some time, he noticed the hallway light had been turned off. Francis joined him on the sofa with a bottle of red wine and two glasses.

Francis filled both their glasses until it was about half full then placed the wine bottle on the oval wooden table in front of them. 'Here you go.'

'Thank you,' Arthur nodded his head and they clinked their glasses together. He took a taste sip of the wine and smiled at its sweetness. 'So, you said you would tell me about your children?'

‘Yes, I have two boys. Alfred is eight and Matthew is seven.’

‘Why, that’s adorable. You seem like a lovely father.’

‘Thank you.’ Francis smiled. ‘They’re cute kids, although I think Alfred might like hamburgers too much and Matthew seems to put too much maple syrup on his pancakes.’

 ‘I can imagine what that must do to a father that cooks for a living.’ Arthur chuckled. ‘I don’t mean to pry, but are you seeing anyone right now?’

‘No, I’m a single father. I adopted those two a couple years ago.’

‘Wow! I find it amazing that you’re able to take care of them by yourself.’ Arthur said impressed. 'Admittedly, I did hear a little bit of your conversation the other day with Mr Kiku and I was a little confused about the details, but a lot of things have been cleared up for me now.'

'I'm glad that's so.' Francis smiled. 'Now, I'd like to know something about you. Are _you_ single?'

Arthur sighed. 'Yes, I am. I travel a lot because of my job, mostly to the US and Africa. Staying in a long distance relationship can be rather difficult, so I'd rather not get into one at all. I've never met anyone that convinced me otherwise.'

'Oh, that sounds a little rough, no? I like to give people lots of love, so I could never be able to do that.' Francis sighed. 'Let me tell you something. Actually, the real reason why the old restaurant I used to work at shut down is because my boss was found to have been secretly dealing drugs to China. He had a whole secret stash in the basement. Anyway, my boss really liked me so he was able to help me out after the restaurant closed.'

'That sounds rough, but at least you got out of it well, especially for your kids. We can't all be charming French pastry chefs.' Arthur mused. 'I like to cook myself, but I prefer brewing tea.'

'I hope someday you could make something for me.'

'It'll be the grandest dish you've ever tasted.'

\---

_Beef Bourguignon and Crème brûlée_

_The beef was very nice and tender. I could taste a bit of red wine and garlic too. It blended well in my mouth. As for the Crème brûlée the texture and flavour was near perfect. Francis said that what he made was how it's really supposed to be like, but it was still too burnt for me. He works really hard at this, though. I couldn't imagine having to work all day and take care of so many personal things. He's actually not that bad, I guess..._

_Comments:_

_Hey, you know I'd actually like to read about the food. But if you want to talk about the chef more, that's fine too. -Antonio, 9:24_

 


End file.
